After Dark 3: Parallel Shadows
by Alicia
Summary: Part 3 in the After Dark series. How much heartbreak can one person take?


Basic Disclaimer: Its Paramounts playground. I only wish I owned these characters. But alas! They're not mine! But this storyline IS mine, so don't copy! 

Copyright: February 2000 

Dedicated to Laren, my inspiration for this part :) 

Parallel Shadows   
Part 3 in the 'After Dark' series   
By Alicia Torres (Or just plain Alicia) 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ 

B'Elanna Torres paced outside Sickbay, her heart in her throat. He was home. Home. That phrase kept echoing in her mind. After half a year, he was finally back. They had beamed him directly to Sickbay, so she hadn't even seen him. If she hadn't been so concerned, she would have thought to be angry with Tuvok for not letting her in while he was being examined. 

"B'Elanna!" She stopped pacing and turned to the source of the voice. It was Harry. He jogged the rest of the way to her and scooped her up into a tight hug. "Is he okay?" he asked, pulling back, but keeping his hands on her shoulders. 

"I don't know. They won't let me in," she complained, gesturing to the closed doors of Sickbay. 

Harry tried to smile sympathetically, but his mouth wouldn't cooperate. "They probably just don't want you to try to take over or jump down their throats." 

"Harry, if my thoughts weren't focused on Tom right now, you'd be eating your liver," she snapped. 

"That's why I said it," Harry laughed. "They probably just don't want you to see him if he's in bad shape. They need to work." 

"You're right," she sighed, turning and beginning to pace again. She forced herself to listen to Harry's logic, knowing her temper would get them all — Tom especially — nowhere. Instead she curled and uncurled her fists, paced the length of the doors to Sickbay, and silently fumed. 

~~~ 

Captain Janeway stood halfway between the biobed and the console in Sickbay, a cool hand clamped firmly across her forehead, trying to cool the fiery skin. Her mind was in a constant state of agitation that never seemed to end. She had felt it for the past six months, but it was nothing compared to the turbulent mass of emotions that were now assaulting her stomach and all her senses. 

She turned back to the biobed, turning her full gaze on Tom. He really didn't look bad, all things considered. What was going on inside, however, was a completely different story. Physically, he was the same Tom Paris he had always been, he seemed to be in pretty good health, and he looked exactly the same except for a few scrapes and bruises. But in his head, he wasn't Tom. He wasn't even alive. 

"Captain?" The Doctor's low voice cut into her thoughts and she turned slightly, tilting her chin in acknowledgment. "Take a look at this." He ushered her over to a computer console by Tom's bed. A screen was pulled up showing several of Tom's brain engrams. "His memories are still there. There is absolutely no medical reason why we can't get through to him. He understands what we are saying, but seems incapable of replying in any way. He recognizes us, knows us. But there is some internal war going on in his head that won't let him respond." 

"Do you think it could be intentional?" Janeway asked, looking back to Tom who was sitting on the biobed staring straight ahead. 

"It's possible that he was severely traumatized . . . wherever it is that he's been for almost a year. His subconscious could've blocked out his emotions. It's a rather . . . Vulcan . . . explanation, but completely plausible." 

"What do you recommend we do?" 

"Well, aside from not returning him to duty until he returns to normal — although with Mr. Paris, 'normal' is a relative term — I think we should expose him to as much normality as possible. Keep him around his friends, let him sit on the bridge . . . make him eat Mr. Neelix's food . . . " A wry look passed the Doctor's face. "Effective immediately. I'm afraid we'll have to let this take its course." 

"What about B'Elanna?" 

"Oh yes, Ms. Torres. That's going to be a bit difficult. Perhaps I should inform her of Tom's condition before I allow her to see him." 

"No." Chakotay said from across the room. "Let me." 

~~~ 

"He . . . doesn't know who we are?" B'Elanna said, furrowing her eyebrows in confusion. 

"He knows who we are. He just can't respond to any of us," Chakotay corrected. 

"So, he can't speak?" 

Chakotay sighed and corrected her again, bluntly this time. "He doesn't *feel*. No emotions, no response to stimuli. A waking coma." That silenced her and she could feel a faint stinging behind her eyes. "The Doctor wants to expose him to as much normality as possible. Talk to him like he understands it. He probably does. Tuvok is going to start working with him, trying to resurface any memories he may have buried. It's just a matter of waiting." 

"So . . . I can see him?" 

"Yes. Go on in." B'Elanna brushed past him and he closed his eyes. There was no way he was going to watch B'Elanna's heart be broken when Tom didn't show the same joy she felt over finally being reunited. He turned away and fought back tears of his own, heading to his quarters to think. 

~~~ 

She'd played it over and over in her head. How happy they'd both be after reuniting after almost a year of being apart. She had imagined him sweeping her up in his arms and kissing her passionately, followed by a long and earnest session of lovemaking. They'd lay in each other's arms for hours, talking about all the good times they had been through and the dark ones they couldn't have gotten through without each other. She had expected fireworks and passion. She had gotten a blank stare and silence. 

Choking back a sob, she leaned down, putting her hands on his knees. His eyes followed her hands, looking back up at her once her hands had rested. His eyes were blank, not even a flicker of recognition. "Hi, Tom." Nothing. "It's been so long since I've seen you. It's wonderful to have you back." Still nothing. Then again, what did she expect? Chakotay had warned her about this. But no amount of warning could have possibly have prepared her heart for the amount of breaking it was going through. She looked at the Doctor who simply shook his head. She rose and walked to him, lowering her voice. "When are you letting him out of here?" 

"Now, I suppose. Would you mind staying with him? I want him monitored at all times, but I don't want to keep him penned up in sickbay." 

"No. Not at all. I'd be glad to." 

"Good. Mr. Paris?" he said, rasing his voice. Tom's head moved to the source of the sound. "B'Elanna is going to take you to your room now. You'll come back to see me tomorrow." He smiled and turned back to B'Elanna. "Good luck." 

~~~ 

A month had gone by without the tiniest bit of improvement. Even Tuvok was baffled by Tom's condition. Each morning before taking him to the Mess Hall, B'Elanna gave him a small kiss on the cheek and brushed his hair for him. He seemed to like that and she had even got a tiny smile out of him. Although, it was probably just gas. 

B'Elanna sat in the living room, searching for a specific poem in a database of millions. It was the one Tom had recited to her once during one of their more intimate moments together. It had touched her soul, proving that the mind truly was the best aphrodisiac. Finally, she found it and walked slowly into Tom's room. 

He was sitting on the bed, his eyes staring straight ahead, as usual. He turned his head, those blank eyes that used to hold so much love moving over her blankly. If he recognized her, he gave no sign. She smiled at him and sat down on the bed, nervously clutching the PADD. A sigh escaped her lips as she gazed at him sadly. "Tom..." she took his hands, and was overjoyed to feel them tighten around hers. "Tom, if you understand me, please squeeze my hands again." She waited, and after a few excruciating seconds, he finally did. "Oh, Tom. I've missed you so much. The *real* you. I miss hearing your voice, feeling your touch. Please Tom . . . please come back to me." Without meaning to, she had laid her head down on his shoulder and started to sob, only the second time in seven months. He didn't move, but rather watched her as she cried. 

She brought herself back up and wiped at her eyes. Scrolling down on the PADD she said, "I'm going to read this to you, Tom. I want you to remember how much we meant to each other." 

She closed her eyes, then reopened them, swallowing the last of her tears. With a shaky voice, she began to read. " ~Glistening bodies entwined in an ageless erotic dance,  
seeking pleasures from each other,   
seeking wonder and romance.  


She touches his face with tenderness.  
He draws her body near.  
Aching, needing hunger   
will make their destiny clear.   


Their lips meet in soft kisses,  
their tongues begin passion's war.  
Forgotten now, the outside world.   
All is here, behind this door.   


He strokes her body tenderly,  
she arches up for his caress.  
He finds her silken portal   
and her womanly wetness.  


She moans in fiery desire   
and pulls his hand away,  
wishing to end this exquisite torture  
and get on with passion's play.   


She straddles his waiting body,  
eases him into her feminine hollow.  
She leads him on a rhythmic dance,  
his thrusting hips must follow.   


She rides him faster, even then,  
to hear his wondrous sighs.  
She shows him all the delights   
she has between her womanly thighs.  


They stare into each other's eyes  
and gasp as ecstasy unreels,  
and tangles them in a lover's knot   
that every answer reveals.  


Sated, they lie side by side,  
spent but hungering still.  
She touches him where their passion came  
and tastes their lovers spill.   


Their mouths meet in passionate need,  
hungry animals once more.  
This time he rises above her,  
her body to explore.   


Their ballet begins again,  
as he thrusts his manhood in,  
vowing not to end the dance   
unless her cries he'll win.   


Like beasts of old they become,  
riding with desire,  
only resting their throbbing bodies   
when seated by their fire. ~"  


She stopped, her voice a quiet whisper as she read the last line. Looking up at Tom, she saw tears glistening in his eyes. His mouth opened and moved wordlessly. He concentrated for a moment then continued. "B — B'Ela — nna . . . " 

To Be Continued 

* * *

I must give credit where credit is due. That beautiful poem is not mine. It belongs to [Poet de Vine][1]. 

   [1]: mailto:poetdevine@yahoo.com



End file.
